Worcesteshire and Liquor
by Masuyomi-chan
Summary: Tell me, do you find horrible practical jokes funny? Because I don't. Especially this one. Stopping Team Taka and the Akatsuki from mauling each other's faces isn't on my To-Do list. Whoever did this, I promise you, IT IS NOT F-IN' FUNNY! R
1. Damn Lap Top

"COME the fuck ON! WORK, bitch, WORK!" I screeched at my laptop. The damn thing just wouldn't **work**. I mean, I've been trying to get the sonovabitch to at least UNFREEZE for THIRTY FUCKING MIN—oh, I guess I should introduce myself 'fore I go on about my life. The name's Amber.

Try not to wear it out.

I'm a pretty average 18-year-old girl—no life, practically dirt poor, living in an apartment, and still a wallflower by basic standards.

My hair is black, long, and tends to have fly aways in random places when there's no wind. At all. My eyes are brown, and under the left one is a freckle. My bangs cover my right eye, for some reason. I dunno, I guess my hair just falls into place there. Plus, I'm too lazy to try and pin it up every day, at the risk getting more fly aways. I already have enough. More is not wanted. My skin is nice, I suppose. Almost tan, but not quite.

Back to the lap top problem, I grabbed my phone and dialed the phone number of my best frenemy: Jeremy Smith. He's a freakin' genius with computers. He also isn't exactly the stereotype image of computer whizzes: blond hair, green eyes, totally blemish-free, and he was the second-line quarterback back when we were in high school. Us two became close during senior year—not, y'know, **close** close, but we told each other practically everything and fought constantly. So in a way, we're like brother and sister. We don't go to the same college, but we keep in touch with each other by meeting at restaurants and calling and other friendly friend-y friend shit.

"Yes?"

"Yo Jeremy. I need help."

"Amber, who did you stab and why?"

"Wow. So nice when you jump to such conclusions," I muttered sarcastically.

"No, just kidding."

"You better be 'cause I know where you live. I mean with my lap top. It won't come on."

"Stalker. OK, well, have you tried..."

About an hour of trying, failing, questioning, answering, hair pulling, face palming, and cursing later, Jeremy was ready to give and I couldn't agree more. "Heh, this would be a whole lot easier if we could just say it wasn't charged, huh Amber?" I froze and my blood ran cold. "Amber?" Jeremy questioned. "Helloooo?" he asked again in a singsong voice. I did not answer. "It's not charged, is it?"

"Umm... no?"

"So I wasted an hour of my time for nothing?"

"Uhh... maybe?"

"Amber?"

"Yes, my rainbow-striped Honey Bunch?"

"You're an idiot."

"Well, **you're** the one who didn't ask in the first place!"

"Only because I didn't think you were stupid enough to NOT check to see if it was charged BEFORE you called me, so excuse me for thinking you actually contained common sense!"

"MAKE YOUR SENTENCES SHORTER!"

"NO!"

I paused for a minute and sighed.

"Hey, Jeremy?"

"What?" he practically growled into the phone.

"Your time wasn't wasted." I grinned.

"What do you mean?"

"You got to talk to me~!" I sang.

...

"OH HELL NAW! I know you did NOT just hang up on me!"

The dial tone proved me wrong.

"Fine then, you ASS JACKET!" I slammed the phone back down on the receiver.

I plugged the charger into the lap top just as my lights flashed off ominously. "WHAT THE FUCK?" I yelled. I looked out my window to see dark clouds rolling in at an incredibly fast rate. "OK, this weather is really creeping me out." I spoke to myself. Strangest thing was, I didn't even see a lightning flash nor hear a roll of thunder, yet my lights went off. "Oh, **HELL** naw! I know y'all punk-ass mofos ain't in **MY** room that **I** rented, messin' with **MY** damn electricity!" On eachfloor is seven rooms, and we have six floors. Each room (the one you rent, not like a bathroom) has its own fuse box, which is located in the apartment's basement. Don't ask me why, I just live here.

I scurried to the kitchen and grabbed my weaponry out of the cabinet—a bottle of Worcestershire and a bottle of liquor. I then started debating on which bottle I should use to bust on someones head. I loved them both dearly, but one of them had to go. "Worcesteshire or liquor? Worcesteshire or liquor? Worcesteshire or liquor?" Then I grinned again. "Liquor or worcesteshire? Liquor or worcesteshire? Liquor or worcesteshire?" It was then that I noticed the wooden baseball bat sitting idly on the counter, practically screaming _"ME! USE ME! I WANT SOME **BRAINZ!**_" I grinned even more and pick up the thick bat, testing a few swings before deciding it was good.

I slowly crept down the stairs to the first floor and headed down to the first floor, noticing that every room, like mine, was dark. And empty. I shivered. I looked out the first floor window and saw that the dark clouds from earlier were settled in and pouring rain. I opened the basement door once I finished descending the stairs and looked around. Just like all the other rooms: dark, empty, and creepy. I tiptoed into the room and flipped the emergency switch right next to the door to 'ON'. Nothing. Not even a flicker. I reached into my pocket, hoping, **praying**, that they we—YES! I held the brand new match up to my yet again grinning face. Or what I'm guessing was my face. It was pitch-black dark in there, and my eyes still hadn't adjusted. The only reason I made it there in the first place is because I knew that apartment like the back of my hand.

I flicked the match across the wall. Nothing. I did it again, and it still refused to light. I finally got it after the fourth or fifth time, and held my only light source down to my watch. **8:39**, it said. _What?_ I thought. When I called Jeremy, it was only 5:00. I went over to my fuse box by finding the room number—204.

All the lights were flipped towards 'ON'.

OK, something funky is definitely goin' on here. I looked at my neighbor's. All of them were towards 'ON', too.

I turned around and came face-to-face with... ANOTHER FACE! I screamed and swung the bat wildly. I must have swung hard, because I heard a hard THUD against the wall. I bolted for the door but it was slammed shut fiercely by someone... or some**thing**. "Curiosity killed the cat," someone slash something hissed in my ear. "Do I look like a fucking cat?" I growled. I swung low with the bat, trying to hit a certain _something_, since I figured the voice was male. Oh, I hit something alright. It was hard as FUCK, and the vibrations traveled up my arm through my throbbing hands. I immediately dropped the bat and rubbed my hands. The intruders took this opportunity to take my bat and crack me upside the head with it. I stumbled backwards. "Hey... y'all see dem... stars~?" I fell backwards, out cold.

* * *

"We can't kill her until we find out where we are."

"WHY THE FUCK NOT? BITCH FUCKIN' SMACKED MY DAMN HEAD OFF!"

"Tobi thinks she was just scared and was just defending herself!"

"Tobi, you **don't** think, un."

"Well Hidan-san was the one who popped in front of her."

"Shut the fuck up, Fishy."

Amber groaned and held her aching head. "Damn voices, shut up. I only talk to y'all when I'm lonely, not when I have killer headaches..."

**_A/N: Please review and tell me if you like the story so far. I like to hear your opinions, and also if you think Amber is a Mary-Sue or not. Kthanksbai~ 8D_**


	2. Introducing, the one and only, ADRIEN

Started updating at 1:00 in the morning. XD

* * *

I stared.

I have to admit, I stared like Hell.

No, I _ogled._

Because in front of me, were indeed the hottest cosplayers I've ever seen. Akatsuki and Team Hebi/Taka cosplayers.

Most of them, anyways. They also had Karin and Konan with them. But they looked so _real. _The guy cosplaying as Pein, the Akatsuki leader, had piercings that looked pretty real. And Itachi's lines... and Kakuzu's stitches and eyes and tan-ness... and Kisame's tallness and gills and blueness... Damn, these guys were good.

"What the fuck are you staring at, bitch?"

And Hidan's Tourettes!

"Your abs. Problem?"

He frowned quite deeply at that comment.

"How did y'all get in my apartment, anyways? Who knocked me out? Who sent you? Who the hell are you!"

"The door was open! Sasori-san 'cause you hit his arm with a bat! Tobi doesn't know! Tobi is Tobi!"

What?

"Uh... you guys don't have to pretend to be the people you're cosplaying anymore, y'know. You're not at the Narutocon anymore."

"What the Hell are you talkin' about, you crazy bitch? We aren't _pretending_ to be anyone! I'm Hidan, and I'm still pissed about you hitting my damn head last night with that wooden thing!"

I rolled my eyes. _I think I know who did this._

"Trust me, you're dreaming. If I hit your head with anything relatively hard, you'd be dead." This was true, because I used to play girls' softball. While I wasn't the best, I was pretty damn good in hitting.

I ran to my room, a few of the cosplayers following me, and grabbed my phone. I quickly dialed a number I knew by heart and put the phone to my ear, my eyes narrowed.

"Hello?" a calm, cool voice answered on the other side of the phone.

"Adrien, you fucking bitch!"

"Amber." She acknowledged dully.

"Why the hell did you send a bunch of sexy cosplayers to my apartment and fuck with my electricity box? One of them, the Hidan-looking one, keeps calling me a bitch!"

"At least one of them is smart, then."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean!" I asked angrily.

"You know what it means, you're a big girl. Or so you tell me, anyways."

"No, seriously, I want to hear you say it. Or are you chicken?" I grinned.

"Amber, I tolerate you and moderately like you," this was Adrien's way of saying she loves me, "but sometimes, you're a total dumbass. And that chicken line is common for _kindergarteners_, you moron."

"You mean _act_ like a dumbass, right?"

"No."

I frowned deeply, because Adrien didn't usually cuss unless she really meant what she was saying.

"And by the way, I didn't send anyone to your house. My brother had a wild party here last night, and I was too busy babysitting his idiotic friends to bother with bothering you."

"There wasn't a storm there last night?"

"No, you—" I heard her suck in a huge breath and exhale. "No. You didn't watch the news yesterday? They said there was no chance of getting even a light drizzle, much less a thunderstorm. It was bright and sunny all day yesterday."

I frowned even more so, so it probably looked more like a scowl to anyone else. I knew she was bullshitting me, because there was _definitely_ a storm here last night, and she didn't live that far away from my apartment. I decided to drop it though.

"So, how did the party go?"

"I think most of the girls that came got pregnant. It was more like a shrine for sluts than anything else."

I gasped. "You didn't...?"

"No, I'm quite sure I didn't. But I woke up on the foosball table with a hangover that made me feel like I was screwed in the ear by a refrigerator."

"... The foosball table?"

"Don't ask. Even I don't know. When I went in my room, my mother was in there, with her shirt up to her bellybutton and her hand halfway down her pants. When I asked what she was doing, she said something about the air conditioning..."

I pulled a disgusted face. "Adrien, I can only assume that—"

"Yes, yes I know." She sighed.

"So can I—"

"_No._"

"But I just—"

"You're not coming over to my house." _Click._

I turned to the cosplayers, realizing now that all thirteen of them were in my room. I'm happy that the bedroom is the biggest room out of all the apartment-rooms, because otherwise the room would be quite full and I don't enjoy close contact with strangers.

"We're goin' to Adrien's house! So I can return you cosplayers to wherever the Hell you came from! TO THE SUV!"

The Karin cosplayer looked confused. "What's an SUV? And how come I can't sense any chakra in you?"

I looked at her, amused. "Haha, very funny. You know, you guys are great actors. I almost believed you for a second. Follow me."

Surprisingly, the deranged obssessors all followed me with confused faces. For most of them, anyways. The Sasuke one, Itachi one, and the others who played blocks of stone all seemed impassive... Damn, these guys were good!

Suddenly the Sasuke one appeared in front of me, glaring at me with Sharingan contacts. "Tell us how we got here, woman."

... _Daaaaaamn_, these guys were _good!_ He walked so fast, it was almost like he appeared out of thin air! He had Sasuke's voice down pretty well, too, as well as his assiness (_My_ word).

"And why is Itachi here? I killed him, along with that blond one!"

The Deidara one stomped up to him! "I blew myself up, un, as a last tribute to my art, and an effort to kill you! You didn't kill me! If it wasn't for those damn evil eyes, _you'd_ be dead, too, un!"

And Deidara's speech thing!

The Sasori one joined in, in a rather bored monotone. "You're holding everyone up, Brat. And art is everlasting, not some stupid explosion."

And Sasori's everything!

Then the _Itachi_ one started, saying, "It's pointless to argue, Little Brother," as he poked Sasuke in the forehead.

And Itachi's poke!

After that, I inwardly had a cuteness meltdown, while mentally squealing, _That would soooo happen in the anime if Sasuke hadn't killed Itachi and gone insane!_

With the Sasori and Deidara cosplayers still bickering, I started yelling, "Shut the Hell UUUUUP!"

Ah, silence.

I walked in front once more and turned around. "EVERYONE! We are playing the Quiet Game now! Anyone who speaks until I call it quits will get a brain hemorrhage from how hard I will smack them upside the head! Got it!"

I recieved either glares, nods, or silence.

"GOOD!"

* * *

After cramming everyone into the usually spacey SUV, I drove for a silent 10 minutes until we reached Adrien's cast—I mean house.

No, for real, her house is huge. It was either the size of two of the apartment buildings combined or larger. The reason she's so rich is because her dad owns a relatively popular pretzel company.

I could twist some bread and bake it, too, but I probably wouldn't be able to sell it very well.

_A lonely cardboard box sits on the side of the road, with the words "PRETZELS $10 EACH" on one side. A creepy-looking girl with long, black, tattery hair stands to the side of it, nibbling on a rather burnt-looking pretzel. Cars and their owners either pass by without taking a second glance or stopping to stare before moving on without a word. Every time this happens, her already shriveled and nearly completely impure heart becomes smaller and smaller as the muscles of her middle finger ache more and more._

Yeah, I don't see it.

After ringing the doorbell once, I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until I decided that I wasn't gonna wait.

So I rang it again.

And again.

And again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and ag—

"What?" Adrien snapped as she yanked the door open.

Adrien was absolutely beautiful, I had to admit. Pretty sky blue eyes, hair dyed red velvet with a few caramel and chocolate-colored streaks, boobs twice the size of my poor B's, a thin waist, and a total height of about 5"8—which was way taller than my meek 5"1'.

Of course, she also had tons of flaws.

I shall only divulge a few to you now.

One, she has a huge scar on her face; it goes from her temple all the way down to her jaw. She usually covers it up with her hair, but you can see it sometimes. I'm not sure how she got it.

She has another dark, ugly-ass scar across her right hand from when she nearly chopped her fingers off trying to cut some vegetables.

She's allergic to a large number of things, including: cats, a bunch of spider bites, cinnamon, and for some strange reason, nicotene. The cinnamon one is so bad, if she gets within 5 feet of it, anything on her person swells up to twice its normal size.

She also gets sick a lot. She used to get sick with some sort of flu, like, every other day. It takes her about 1-3 weeks to get _un_sick, and then, three days later, she's ailing with a different version of the _same damn thing_.

"ADRIEN!" I shouted as I went to hug her, only to get a faceful of door. I rubbed my nose as I opened the door again, the other behind me following.

"What do you want?" she asked me as she came into the huge livingroom, pulling her shirt down over her torso.

"Do you swear on your life on this Earth that you didn't send _anyone_ to my apartment last night?"

She cocked an eyebrow. "Yes. Why?"

I grinned wildly. "That means... these people behind me... are the real Akatsuki and Team Taka!"

I could practically _hear_ Hidan roll his eyes. "No shit, dumbass."

Aw, _Hell_. No.

I went to the kitchen, and assorted sounds of things being moved around were heard as I came back and stabbed Hidan in the forehead with a chef's knife.

"Ow, fucking bitch, what the hell!" Seriously, he looked ready to pimp-slap the fuck out of me.

Adrien looked extremely shocked. No, her mouth wasn't gaping or anything, but her eyes resembled tennis balls.

She looked around at the others and motioned with her head to the huge couch on her left sitting a few feet away from the huge TV, which was on her right. "Please, sit. Amber, kitchen, _now_."

Once we reached the kitchen and the double doors connecting it and the living room were shut, I sat at the table and she stood in front of it.

"_What did you do?_" she hissed, her eyes wide as she glanced back and forth between me and the doors.

"Nothing, I swear! It wasn't my fault this time!"

"I'm sorry, Amber, but for some strange reason, when you bring a bunch of people claiming to be from a Japanese manga—one of which just survived a stab in the forehead—I can't help but foolishly assume that it's YOUR FAULT!"

Oh crap.

Call the Press, the apocalypse is coming.

Adrien just lost her temper and yelled.

"Look, lemme explain."

Her wide eyes narrowed in what I guessed was a motion for me to continue.

"There was this kick-ass storm at my apartment last night. All my nibbs (AKA neighbors) were gone, and all the lights were out, even though the fuse boxes were all on. I guess I must've freaked when I saw Hidan and hit with the baseball bat, because he won't stop bitching about it now. And then I guess I hit Sasori's hard-as-wood wooden arm and it really hurt because you know how much it hurts when you hit something hard," by now, my words were starting to run together, "and then _someone_ knocked me out. I woke up and there they all were, in their badass glory. Well, aside from Karin, anyways... So, next thing _I know,_" right here is where I desperately wanted to say, _My donkey fell down your waffle hole._

Shrek is awesome.

But instead, I said, "I'm right here, talking to you."

Adrien was silent as she mulled over all of what I just said.

"There's only way to find out if I'm dreaming..."

YES, SHE WAS GONNA ASK ME TO SLAP HER!

_Slap._

I rubbed my now red cheek with a pout as I glared at her. "That was a bitch move, Adrien."

She stared at her red hand. "Stings enough."

"Did you really just slap _me_ to see if _you_ were dreaming?"

Her gaze snapped to me. "No. I slapped you because frankly, Amber, you're an idiot. Have you even thought to wonder how many people would have seen them, recognized them? And standing on my doorstep, no less? You can't tell anyone about them!"

"Why not?"

She gave me one of her "Looks". She had many of them.

I've dubbed this one, the "It-Should-Be-Obvious-You-Fucking-Moron" Look.

"It means time and dimension travel is possible! Do you know what everyone would do to them—to US? Other countries would find out, and try to beat the United States to the point! It'll be the Cold War all over again! The world would be destroyed in a matter of years."

"... Not even Jeremy?"

She gave me the "That-Was-Sincerely-One-Of-The-Dumbest-Questions-I've-Ever-Heard" Look. "Jeremy, you and I know both know, we can trust. Though it would be preferable for him not to know. We don't too many people becoming involved in this."

"Yeah. We've already got... uh, we got..." I started counting off numbers on my fingers.

"Fifteen, Amber. Fifteen."

"Right."

* * *

Review and tell me if you like it, and if Adrien is too pretty. XD

And for the love of all things food-related, take my poll on Bella Swan.


End file.
